


and I'm busting up my brain for the words

by ashintuku



Series: fox on the run [4]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 04:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11455965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashintuku/pseuds/ashintuku
Summary: “How come you’ve got so many scars?”





	and I'm busting up my brain for the words

The boy was a menace. 

Running from crew, crawling through vents and crawlspaces and the ducts, stealing packets of provisions and holing himself into little cubby-holes only he could fit into – the boy was a nuisance and annoying and no one on the crew wanted to take care of the brat. 

Even Yondu sometimes regretted his choice to keep the boy, thinking about how life had been so much easier when he ignored what conscience he had. This usually happened when he was on his hands and knees, looking for signs of the brat because he’d been missin’ for too long and Horuz mentioned that he might have gotten stuck somewhere and died. 

But then he’d find him, curled up and sleeping; gaunt and pale and shaking a little, with tear tracks on his face, and Yondu would remember that if it weren’t for him, the boy would probably already be dead on a bright red planet of lies. 

He had just found the boy after another one of his week-long disappearances, carrying the kid like a sack of root vegetables over his shoulder while the little terran slept. Crew rolled their eyes at the sight of the kid, but some of them seemed relieved to see him in their own way; Oblo grinned, quick and easy, and Tullk reached out and lightly ruffled the kid’s hair as the Centaurian walked by. Kraglin sighed, whistling a little through his teeth, before returnin’ to the bridge so that they could get on with their lives, already. 

Yondu brought the kid up to the captain’s quarters, dumped him on the furs on the bed, and went about doing his own things now that he’d been found. 

He was just changing his shirt, the other covered in cobwebs and dust from crawling through spaces no body should crawl, when he heard the kid stir. He looked over, pursin’ his lips, and watched as the kid rubbed at his eyes and sat up slowly. 

“Hello, brat,” he said once the boy seemed to realize he was no longer in his hidey-hole and had, in fact, been found once more. Quill ignored him, wrapping his arms around his shins and pouting at his knees. Yondu rolled his eyes, walking over to the kid and smacking the back of his head. 

“Ow!” 

“When someone says hello, you say hello _back_ ,” Yondu said, pointing at him. “It’s _manners_ , and I ain’t about t’let ya be a rude little shit just ‘cause yer not with your momma no more.” 

Quill squinted at him, rubbing at his head slowly, before he huddled further into himself. Yondu rolled his eyes, walked back over to his dresser, and returned to hunting down a clean-smellin’ shirt. They’d have to actually do laundry at some point. He thought he’d probably get Retch to do it: the shit had been actin’ up again, and it seemed as good a punishment as any. Nothin’ worse than cleanin’ a Ravager crew’s dirty drawers. 

“How come you’ve got so many scars?” 

Yondu paused, looking over his shoulder to see the kid staring at him from above his kneecaps. He was swimmin’ in an overly-large Ravager jacket, his pants too long and his shirt dirty from the dust of the ducts. His hair was long and shaggy and in his eyes and he had a smudge on his cheek and he looked as young and miserable as he had since the day they’d inserted his translator chip and he’d learned he was never goin’ back home. 

That’d been a year ago. Kid knew how to hold onto misery like it was a talent. 

“Why’re you askin’?” Yondu finally asked, pulling on the shirt and straightening it out so it wasn’t so wrinkled. He rolled his bad shoulder, hearing the quiet grind and crack that hadn’t left him since he was a slave, before grabbin’ his jacket and walkin’ over to the bed. He sat down without warning, and Quill bounced a bit before he shuffled away from Yondu a little. Yondu didn’t take it personal. 

“You’ve just got so many, and they don’t look like none of the others’, and you never talk about ‘em when everyone gets drunk and starts bragging about what they did to get stabbed here or get a glass bottle thrown at them there.” 

“My scars ain’t somethin’ I’m proud of, boy,” Yondu said, reaching up to carefully trace one of the criss-cross bumps along his face. “Mine are old and shitty and no one needs t’know where they come from.” 

He then stood up, pulled on his jacket, and glanced down at the kid with a frown. “Now getchur ass movin’, yer behind on yer chores again.” 

Quill scowled at him, but got up and followed after him after Yondu let out a short whistle and his arrow hummed in its holster. Yondu kept a hand on his shoulder to make sure he didn’t make a break for it. 

~+~

A week later, they were on a dirty planet partakin’ in its supply of booze after a heist gone well. Yondu sat to the back of the bar, watchin’ his crew to make sure none of them did anything too stupid. They weren’t the old crowd he’d run around with; weren’t the loyal, good crew who went quiet soon as he walked into the room because they respected their captain. This was a rowdy bunch: a crew that wouldn’t take softness in its leadership. They were rough and not what any Ravager captain would’ve wanted, but at the end of the day, Yondu really wasn’t a Ravager anymore. 

The flames over his chest seemed to burn, and he ignored it, gaze sliding away from Taserface and Narblik havin’ a drinking contest to see Kraglin lookin’ around, his eyes widenin’ a bit as he seemed to realize something. 

Yondu took a quick look around, noticed a missin’ child, and swore under his breath. 

He got up without the crew noticing, grabbed Kraglin’s arm, and marched them out of the bar. 

“When’d you lose sight of ‘im?” 

“Went to the bathroom t’take a piss, he was s’posed to wait outside the door fer me. Thought he just sat back down when I didn’t see him, but I couldn’t find him anywhere, Cap’n.” Kraglin swallowed, lookin’ at Yondu nervously, and the Centaurian rolled his eyes and shoved him away, chewin’ on his lip. 

“Get Tullk and Oblo. Horuz, too, if you think he’d bother. We’ll fan out; look fer ‘im. There ain’t too many kids in Ravager reds on this planet, he shouldn’t be hard t’find.” 

Kraglin nodded and rushed back into the bar to do as he was told. Yondu set his hands on his hips, glancing around the busy streets; when the others came out, he waved at them and they spread out, walkin’ the streets as casually and easy as you’d please. 

He walked down to the market, ‘cause Quill seemed to like those and always seemed to be lookin’ for something in particular. The stalls were crowded, people haggling and shouting at passerby to come see their wares and maybe buy somethin’, if they felt so obligin’. One or two sellers called about auctions, and Yondu walked right by ‘em, knowing exactly what they were implyin’ and not wantin’ to get mad when he was busy. 

Even though Quill should have stood out like a sore thumb – a tiny little terran kid, wearing Ravager reds and probably sniffling himself silly again – he was nowhere to be found. He even asked around, describin’ him and givin’ approximate heights and all, and people just shook their heads and promised to keep an eye out for him. He eyed the auctioneers, but they didn’t look like they were excited about their product, so they definitely didn’t have any young, healthy kids on hand. That was the only comforting thing about their presence. 

He finally turned out of the market, stopping for a moment in an alleyway to think over where he could find a brat who liked to hide in little crawlspaces, when someone came up from the other end of the alley. He looked over at them, stiffening immediately. 

A giant of a Kree was walkin’ towards him slowly, Quill’s arm in his hand and holding on too tight if the boy’s expression said anything. He had the look of a bounty hunter, and he was by himself, and Yondu felt the blood drain from his face. 

“That’s your captain, isn’t it boy?” the Kree asked, voice deep and guttural and visceral enough to make Yondu remember electric whips and rough hands and the sensation of slowly starving to death for twenty years. “The one you’ve been lookin’ for?” 

“Yondu!” Quill whimpered, and Yondu twitched and shook his head, hands curling into a fist. 

“Y’got somethin’ of mine,” Yondu said finally, tilting his head and watching as the bounty hunter slowed to a stop in front of him. He kept a grip on the boy, and Yondu could feel his fin slowly heating up, eyes glowing a gentle red. “I suggest ye give ‘im back, now, and we’ll jus’ go on our separate ways.” 

“You’ve no right to suggest anything, Udonta,” the Kree said, grinning at him. The black around his mouth made it look like a chasm, and Yondu imagined sending his arrow straight through it. “Now come back here, quietly, and I’ll let the boy go. _Then_ we can leave, yes?” 

Yondu licked his lips, glanced at Quill again as the nine-year-old stared at him with wide eyes, wonderin’ what he was gonna do. He pushed back his coat, freeing up the Yaka. 

“Or you can fight, and I’ll kill the boy.” 

He paused, hesitating for a moment, and that was all Quill needed before he reached up and sank his teeth into his captor’s arm. The bounty hunter swore, and Yondu whistled. The Yaka arrow flew out, quick and true, and zipped through the hunter’s forehead. He stood there for a moment, his expression dazed, and then he fell; toppling on top of Quill. 

Yondu walked over, pushing the Kree off of the boy, and yanked him up to his feet. 

“Y’done runnin’ off and talkin’ ‘bout things y’shouldn’t, boy?” Yondu asked, voice a hiss, and Quill stared at him, wide-eyed and shaking. “Any others of those folk you run into?” 

“He... he had a partner waiting for him by his ship. I think. I didn’t actually see him.” 

Yondu’s grip tightened on Quill’s arm, before he dragged him out of the alley, down the market and back to the bar where he busted in and whistled sharp and high. 

His entire crew froze, looking over at him quickly and seeing him standing there, fin and eyes glowing, Yaka humming by his head. 

“We’re leavin’. _Now_.” 

The crew got up and moved, quick as you please, and Yondu touched his comm and repeated the orders to the others lookin’ for the boy by his side. He dragged Quill back towards the ship, his heart hammerin’ in his throat; the boy whining and complaining of his arm hurting. 

He didn’t let go or relax none until they were back on the _Eclector_ , leaving the planet and its dead behind. 

~+~

“The boy doesn’t know what he did wrong, Captain.” 

Yondu glanced at Tullk, before looking away again, fingers repeatedly tapping against the arm of his chair. The little figures he collected shook with each tap, and he breathed in deeply and slowly let it out. 

“He knows he wandered off, and that’s all he’s gotta know.” 

“Captain—”

“Questionin’ yer captain, Mr Tullk?” Yondu looked back over to the older man, eyes narrowed. Tullk looked at him long and hard, before he shook his head and the Centaurian looked away again. After a moment, Tullk left, leaving Yondu alone on the bridge. 

It was quiet for another few minutes before the door slid open and closed behind him again. He didn’t move as little feet padded into the room, Quill sitting on the floor next to his chair. After a minute or so, Yondu rolled his eyes, scooted over, and snapped his fingers. The boy clambered into the seat after a breath. 

“See these scars, boy?” he asked, and Quill nodded, quick and quiet. He tilted his head, tapping the criss-crossing bumps, before looking at the boy from the corner of his eye. “Go ahead and touch ‘em, but just the once, y’hear? And don’t go tellin’ everyone you did, neither.” 

Quill hesitated, looking at him unsurely, before he reached out and traced his fingers over the scars. Yondu held still for a minute, before he pushed his hand away; looking out the observation deck window. 

“Kree slavers, boy, that’s what did ‘em. I was younger’an you when they bought me, just a baby. Trained me to kill, punished me when I didn’t do it good enough fer ‘em. Left their marks to make me remember ‘em.” He breathed in slowly, letting it out on a quiet sigh, and shook his head. “Like I told you before: old and shitty and nothin’ to brag about.” 

“...was that guy going to take you back?” 

Yondu frowned, chewing on his tongue, before shrugging a shoulder. He felt Quill huddle into himself, so he lightly smacked the back of his head. 

“Wasn’t gonna let him. Ain’t no one takin’ me back there, boy.” He paused, then, before looking at Quill again. “But don’t go sayin’ my name on planets we don’t know. He wouldn’t’a found me if he hadn’t known I was there.” 

“...so it’s my fault he knew.” 

“Did I say that, boy? You just happened to be the one to spill the beans. Any of the idiots on this ship could’a done it. Hell, they could’a seen me, and then grabbed you ‘cause they knew you’s was with me. Don’t know what tipped ‘em off.” He shook his head. “But jus’ don’t go talkin’ ‘bout me, not unless I says so. Alright?” 

“...Okay.” 

Yondu nodded, ruffled his hair, and then gently pushed him off the seat. “Go find Kraglin or Tullk, ask ‘em fer somethin’ to do. An’ if I hear about ya runnin’ off again into the ducts, I’m gonna let the crew eat’cha, got it?” 

Quill stared at him with wide eyes, before he nodded quickly and ran off. Yondu sighed, knowin’ he wasn’t helpin’ the boy get comfortable with him at the end of the day, but knew he couldn’t do no better. 

It’d have to be enough.


End file.
